Shouldn't have Happened
by Sailor Phoenix1997
Summary: None of it should've happened. Not him. Not her. None of them. All of it was too much. It should've been over. But Kronos wasn't near finished. He wanted more. He wasn't even near sated. Blood is thicker than water but ichor is thicker still. Rated for safety, and will become a crossover soon. Please R&R.


**Sailor Phoenix1997: Hello readers, alright, first. I just want to say that this will soon be taken into the crossover area. Just search for this story and click on it, okay. You'll understand when the next chapter comes in. Please review and enjoy**

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To Kronos, it had been nothing.

To Luke, it had been huge.

_This _was going to be huge.

Carefully, the scar-faced blond peered through the leaves of the tree he kept himself hidden in. He then looked at his watch and mentally cursed.

"How long does it take for this woman to go to sleep?" he whispered. He peered through the leaves again at the house. He'd dreaded doing this. A part of him had wondered for an instant if he could back out, but in that same second he'd known no matter what he did, he'd never have a way to back out. He was too far in, too far gone.

He retreated back towards the trunk of the tree, clutching a small, white bundle to his shoulder as a light rain began to fall, the leaves giving him a primitive shelter. He sighed deeply, debating with himself to do this or not. A tiny hand reached out from the bundle and planted itself on his scar. Gently he pulled the bundle away to get a better view of the tiny infant in his arms. Her eyes were slitted open to reveal the same blue color his own eyes possessed. The tiny girl's skin was pale but her cheeks were red from being scratched by her tiny, sharp nails that were now closed in her tiny fists.

Luke smiled at her and trailed the tip of his finger up the side of her face and her hand moved to grab onto him, as if she understood the severity of the situation in her few-day-old mind. She seemed so wise for someone so young.

Suddenly, the lights flicked off in the house, making Luke nearly jump in surprise. He waited a few minutes before he leapt down from the branch, landing with the grace that came with being who he was, the son of the god of thieves.

Slowly, nearly reverently, he walked up the walkway lined with stuffed animals of monsters. Ones he'd fought, ones he'd recruited, ones he'd heard stories about from his spy. There was the Hydra that had supposedly been killed by Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, their Cyclopes friend Tyson, and Clarisse. He'd never bothered to remember her full name as much as the others. They'd been his family, his friends, the people he cared most about. And he'd turned his back on them.

He stopped when his toe stubbed itself on the front step. He looked at his watch again.

"It won't be long now," he murmered. In a matter of hours he wouldn't be Luke Castellan, son of Hermes and May Castellan, anymore, he'd be Kronos, the Titan King, the Time Lord, father of the gods. The baby in his arms started sucking on the tip of his finger like it was a pacifier, making tears spring in Luke's eyes. Quickly, he blinked them away and pulled his hand away, making the baby whine a little.

He silently cursed himself for getting so attached to the tiny creature in his arms. Why hadn't he left her with her mother?

"Because her mother's in the Underworld by now," he explained to himself for the umpteenth time.

Again, he forced himself to go up the stairs. Once more, the idea of running away came to mind. Running somewhere far, far away and keep not only his life, but also the child that was nearly asleep in his arms. Luke shook his head.

"_I have to stop this," _he thought furiously to himself. _"If I hadn't been such a complete idiot I wouldn't be in this mess right now!" _He paused at the front door, clutching the baby closer. He looked down at himself and the baby. He couldn't see the body of a son of Hermes, he saw the body of a coward.

A twenty-three-year-old coward with no high school diploma, no job, no real life, no friends, no wife and a single infant daughter that he was about to abandon...

And he was going to die.

There was no backing out of it, Kronos was going to destroy his body to destroy the gods or Percy Jackson and his army was going to kill him. Personally, he hoped the last one was going to happen. If those he'd once called his friends were there, maybe they'd be kind enough to give him a decent funeral. Kronos wasn't going to leave enough of him left to fit in the tiniest corner of a matchbox.

The baby wriggled in his grasp, waking up from her impromptu nap and reached for his face again as he fell to his knees. He held her against him one last time and kissed her face in every place he could, excusing all the tears falling down his face as rain.

As tenderly as possible, he put the baby down on the doorstep and fished a white envelope out of his shirt pocket. May was written in his sloppy, half-blood dyslexic scrawl. He almost laughed at himself, knowing that a fifth-grader could write his own mother's name better than him. He'd run away before he was even a teen.

With a sigh, he placed the envelope on top of the baby's blankets and kissed her forehead one last time before he stood up, knocked as hard on the door was he could and rang the doorbell a few times. Then, gripping Backbiter, he backed away, praying May would answer the door quickly enough so the baby wouldn't catch pneumonia. Once he was out of sight, he hid behind the tree and gripped his sword tighter as the baby began crying. His first instinct was to run to her, pick her up and kiss her all over, telling her everything would be alright, that Daddy was only teasing, that Grandma was going to take care of both of them. But he restrained himself.

"Come on May, please...Hurry," he begged as he peered at the house again. He only watched for a few seconds longer before the light over the porch turned on and the door opened.

"Luke?!" May called. Luke hid himself behind the tree as the baby's cries became much louder. "Oh my goodness!" Luke closed his eyes and could almost see his mother bending down and picking up the baby and the envelope, smiling lightly at the bad hand-writing making her name. He could almost smell the scent of peanut butter and Jelly sandwiches and burnt chocolate chip cookies from his mother.

Slowly, the baby's cries began to quiet into admiring coos. Curious, questioning noises. If the child had been older, he could almost hear her saying, "Where's my daddy? Who are you? Why am I here? Why did Daddy go?"

Luke bit down hard on his lip as the sound of a chuckle rang in his ears.

"Oh Luke...I don't know what you're up to but I'll happily take care of her! She's such a sweet granddaughter! I won't be surprised if she turns out just like you!" The sound of the door shutting and the light being flicked off made Luke open his eyes and turn back to the house. Silently, he prayed with everything he had, to any of the gods who would listen that his daughter would end up anything like him.

Still gripping Backbiter in a white-knuckle grip, he started down the street. Slowly, his eyes turned to gold and instantly he vanished.

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May hummed a giddy little tune as she fitted her new granddaughter into one of the little blue onsies that used to fit her own son. This on had tiny blue pants, a white-and-powder-blue striped shirt with a yellow duck on the front. May sighed as she lay her granddaughter on a pillow in her own bed and gently tickled the baby's chubby little neck.

"I was so ill-prepared for your arrival little one. Tomorrow, you and I will go into the city and buy you all the clothes you'll need and plenty of diapers. Your daddy's crib should be in the attic." The baby gripped her grandmother's finger and started sucking on it, licking at the smeared-on chocolate from the cookies May had been making that day. "Such a sweet little baby."

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**Phoenix: Wow. That hurt to write. Please review and be nice about it. Yikes.**


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